“Make haste, Izzy.” Olivia’s voice turned urgent, and her sister’s eyes widened, flickering back and forth between Olivia and the Moor who was still bound securely in the chair.
As if sensing that her sister was too frightened to go anywhere on her own, Olivia thrust the tip of her sword further into my gorget and motioned to my men. “Let Cecil go this instant, or I shall kill your commander.”
The knights hurried toward the Moor.
I sighed at their lack of confidence in my abilities. After watching me fight these many months, surely they knew I wouldn’t succumb so easily.
I jerked backward, breaking the connection with Olivia’s sword. At the same time I brought my forearm up with enough power to knock the weapon from her grip. It flew into the air. I caught it then spun and pointed the blade against the Moor’s chest.
The man didn’t flinch, not even to blink.
In addition to having a weak spot for her sister, Olivia had one for this servant. She’d given away as much in the few minutes I’d observed her. Concern for him had likely brought her out of the boudoir in the first place. Now I would use that knowledge against her.
“My lady.” I adjusted the hilt and tested the light weight, guessing the sword had been handcrafted just for her. She had some skill with her weapon, had been trained well. But no matter her abilities, I was stronger, more experienced, and more capable. She’d never be able to outfight or outwit me. She needed to know the battle was over and that she must surrender graciously or it wouldn’t go well for her.
“I am under orders to deliver you and your sister to Lord Pitt alive.” I moved the sharp blade of her sword near the Moor’s face. “If you cooperate, I shall spare your servants any ill will.”
I lifted my gaze to hers, to those startlingly green eyes that now glittered with haughty anger. “But if you fail to submit to my command, you’ll force me to find less pleasant ways to do my job.” Without breaking my gaze from hers, I sliced off the tip of the Moor’s pointed goatee so that black wiry hair drifted to his lap.
Her attention flickered to her servant, a shadow of anxiety flitting across her features. Yet even with her concern for the man she’d called Cecil, she jutted her chin stubbornly. “Take me, but leave my sister.”
Keeping a hard, unrelenting glare upon Olivia, I sliced the servant’s goatee again, this time purposefully grazing his chin.
She winced at the sight of the blood I’d drawn. I knew without looking the wound was only skin deep, but I hoped it was enough to scare her.
For several taut moments, she held the gaze of her servant, silent communication passing between them, in which I guessed he was admonishing her to comply. At least for now. Not because he feared for his own life or what I might do to him. He’d fought too fearlessly earlier to care about what became of himself. Rather he wisely realized Olivia and her sister had no other choice. They were my prisoners and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it.
Finally, she straightened her shoulders and held her head high. Contempt flashed in her eyes. “Very well, sir. I will surrender to you as long as you vow you will leave my household unharmed.”
“You have my word.” I had a sudden urge to correct the way she’d addressed me. As the oldest son, I’d inherited my father’s title, Baron of Windsor. The proper address was my lord or Lord Windsor. Sir was the address given to untitled knights, not lords of manors.
Somehow, I sensed that such titles were very important to Lady Olivia, that she might respect me more if I revealed my true identity. Yet, in the year I’d been working for Pitt, I’d neglected my titles and privileges. By doing so, I’d hoped to forget my old life and all the pain that had accompanied it.
I’d worked hard and kept myself busy enough that the pain had turned into a dull ache locked away in the deep parts of my mind. And that’s where I wanted it to stay. It was better that way. For everybody.
If Lady Olivia wanted to believe she was superior to me, I had no need to prove otherwise. She was simply my prisoner. My job was to deliver her to Pitt. Once I accomplished that, I’d never have to speak with her again.
Chapter
3
I scanned the barren heathland. There were so few hiding places. When I escaped with Izzy—and I would escape—I needed more cover besides the heather and gorse and the occasional orchids with their white flowering spikes poking above the other vegetation like white flags of surrender.
Had I done the right thing in surrendering to Lord Pitt’s commander?
Izzy rode sidesaddle on her gentle mare next to my sturdy bay. In the heat of the June day, she’d gradually wilted as the day had progressed, like a primrose without a proper watering. Her light veil had provided some protection from the unrelenting sun, but the hard riding and the heat had taken their toll upon her. Her head bobbed as she dozed, and I woke her only when she was in danger of sliding off.
Truthfully, the heat had sapped me of much needed energy as well. Now with onset of twilight, I prayed we’d both have the necessary fortitude to sneak away.
We needed to do so before we were out of the Marches and too far away to seek aid. Of course we couldn’t return to Ludlow. Though Sir Aldric had burned only a few buildings and left most of the structure intact, we would find no refuge there, not with the walls down and the supplies ransacked.
Rather, we would ride north to Depnor Castle and find sanctuary with the Marquess of Clearwater and Lionel. It was a full day’s hard ride, but we could do most of it under the cover of darkness—at least I hoped so. Even though our mounts would be tired, we would gain a lead and stay well ahead of any party that might come after us.
Ahead, Sir Aldric rode a powerful warhorse and led his band of knights, forcing Izzy and me to ride at the center of the party, with the supply wagons bringing up the rear.
The commander hadn’t spoken to me again since he’d left my chambers. He’d been too busy overseeing the pillage within the keep to stand guard over Izzy and me and had instead given us into the care of his knights while we’d dressed for traveling and packed a few clothing items. They’d behaved honorably toward us for which I was grateful.
Now those knights rode in a tight formation around us, always vigilant, hemming us in so that we could go nowhere but forward.
Perhaps Sir Aldric feared my father might be on his trail. I could only pray he was, that he’d arrived at Ludlow Castle today, found Cecil bound tightly to the chair, and learned of our fate.
Whatever the case, I was confident Father would send a regiment to rescue Izzy and me just as soon as he heard of our capture. While he’d never been kind and warm like Mother, he was loyal, always loyal.
“You must put aside your own desires for those of your family, Olivia,” he’d said to me often when I was growing up. “Your personal wishes must remain secondary to family. Family comes first above all else.”
It was my duty to do whatever I could to help my father as he worked to maintain power and prestige among his peers. Then he’d be able to make a prized match for Izzy, just as he was doing for me. And he’d be able to pay for the rare medicines that would possibly cure Charles of his ailments.